Ten Years
by Writing Addiction
Summary: A lot can happen to a person in ten years. These are just a few moments in the lives of Soubi and Ritsuka. Drabbles series, rated T just in case something comes up later. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Eighteenth Summer

_A/N: This will hopefully eventually be twenty drabblish little glimpses into the lives of Soubi and Ritsuka over the span of 10 years, beginning after my story "Firsts," aka after Ritsuka turns fifteen. They are definitely not in chronological order. The titles will tell you when the entry takes place. For example, the first is "Eighteenth Summer," which means that it takes place the summer after Ritsuka turned eighteen. Pretty simple, but I didn't want to confuse anyone by not explaining. And freshly baked cookies to the person who can guess the game Ritsuka's playing in this one.  
_

_Dedicated to "Xenell", who knows who she is, for forcing me to read the first Loveless manga. Good times, good times._

* * *

"You want me to what?" Ritsuka asks, turning his head momentarily from the video game he is playing to glance at Soubi. When he turns his attention back to his game, the little green, kitchen-knife-bearing nightmare he is fighting has already killed one of his party members and is working on the rest. Swearing under his breath, he pauses and drops the controller, walking over to Soubi and standing behind him. "Where did that come from, anyway?"

Getting up from his chair, the older man repeats, "I want you to pose for me."

"Pose?" Ritsuka asks uncertainly, tucking a length of hair behind his ear. "Why?"

"Because you've never been painted before, only sketched. You're a wonderful muse," he adds, running a hand down Ritsuka's arm and letting his fingers curl into the boys. "Why wouldn't you make a wonderful subject?"

"Pose like how?" the boy asks timidly, his voice getting softer with every syllable. "As in…naked?"

Soubi smiles and shakes his head. "Not necessarily. Only if you wanted to add that to our private collection." Ritsuka blushes slightly at the mention of the sketches Soubi had done of him over the years, the ones hidden away in a folder under the bed. Most of them are, from a stranger's viewpoint, perfectly innocent, but Ritsuka knows that they were inspired by his Fighter's desire for further, deeper intimacy. Soubi laughs softly and hugs him, adding, "And I meant that you should pose for one of my classes."

Ritsuka looks up sharply. "For a class? Why?"

Soubi looks away for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to tell his Sacrifice the truth. "They all want to meet Agutsuma-sensei's famous boyfriend, and I think it's about time they painted a subject who still has his ears. A win-win situation, I think."


	2. Sixteenth Winter

It was strange to see him there so late at night, but Soubi wasn't complaining. A hard snowstorm had hit the area, blanketing the ground in a thick layer of ice and snow. The weatherman was saying that it was the worse snowstorm in fifteen years. Many people were without electricity and almost all the roads were iced over. Ritsuka had come over after school the day before, when the snow was only a couple of flakes few and far between, but in the early evening the storm had picked up speed and practically snowed them in. School had been cancelled that night, and Ritsuka called his mother to tell her he couldn't get home.

"Kaasan? I'm—no, everything's all right. … I'm not hurt. It's just that the roads near Soubi's house are really—… Do you mind if I stay with him tonight? It's too dangerous to try and come home right now because of all the ice and—… I can wash the clothes I wore today, but they're not having school tomorrow. … Kaasan, I wouldn't do that. … Okay, thank you very much. … I love you, Kaasan."

It was the first time Ritsuka had ever spent the night. The poor boy didn't want to tempt him too badly, so he slept in his jeans and t-shirt on the couch. Soubi had insisted on Ritsuka taking the bed, but he'd steadfastly refused. The next day came and went, and by mid-afternoon, the ice had melted off the roads enough for Soubi to take Ritsuka home. He kissed his Sacrifice goodbye, causing the boy to blush slightly, and drove away.

He will always remember the events of the next day, Thursday, because at nearly midnight Ritsuka had shown up at his door, shivering and bleeding, before fainting at his feet.


	3. Nineteenth Fall

"Ritsuka?"

"Yes, Soubi?"

"…I'm cold."

"There are more blankets in the linen closet."

…

"Ritsuka? I'm still cold."

"Then go lay over the vent, Soubi. Stop bugging me and go the sleep already."

"We could keep each other warm, Ritsuka. That would work much better than a heaping pile of blankets."

"I told you, Soubi, none of that until Christmas."

"So I can't even _lie_ next to you?"

"You get too touchy-feely in your sleep."

"…Oh."

"Good night, Soubi."

"…Good night, Ritsuka."


	4. Twenty Second Fall

"Do you know what today is, Ritsuka?" Soubi asked me shortly after I woke up. I stretched my sleep-heavy limbs and rubbed my eyes, giving him an odd look. Soubi smiled and repeated his question.

"Um, Wednesday?" I replied groggily. Soubi smiled again, kissing me and running the back of his hand gently down my stomach. I had shared his bed long enough to know what that meant and was more than willing to participate. Much later that day, the two of us went to the park, as we still often did, and walked around in comfortable silence. I felt his fingers thread through mine. Even after seven years of loving him and four of being able to openly express our affection, holding his hand made my heart race, as if our relationship was still something taboo.

We walked towards a picnic table and Soubi asked me the question again. "Do you know what today is, Ritsuka?" He sat opposite me and leaned forward slightly.

"It's still Wednesday," I reply with a smile. "Is that not the answer you're looking for?"

"No," he said, bringing my hand up to his lips. "Think harder."

It must be important, I think to myself, for Soubi to be this adamant about me remembering it. There really weren't that many days Soubi held as important, but I didn't understand what was so special about _Wednesday_. After a long moment of pondering his question, I shook my head slightly. "Nothing's jumping out at me."

He leaned across the table, his forehead almost touching mine. "Let me remind you, then," he whispered as he cupped my head in his hands. He said, "Strength. Give me strength," and bent his head to kiss me. Even before our lips met, I realized the importance of the day with a jolt: I had meet Soubi ten years ago today.

After the kiss ended, I replied with false petulence, "You said you wouldn't do anything."


	5. Seventeenth Winter

"What brought this on?" I asked, pulling away from Ritsuka just far enough to breathe. We had gone to the park on a date, and after waking around for a while, had found a bench on which to rest. No sooner than we had sat down than Ritsuka tugged at my coat and kissed me very passionately. This wasn't like him at all. Under normal circumstances, if I had pulled a stunt like that, he'd be reprimanding me for the rest of the day. As much as he loved me, he was still slightly embarrassed by public displays of affection. I believe, although he had never said this, that he thought I would get into trouble with the law for having a relationship with a minor, which had been a problem two years ago. But now, with his eighteenth birthday mere weeks away, there was nothing to worry about. Perhaps, I thought to myself, he realizes that now it's okay for us to love each other.

But that still didn't explain why he was nearly straddling me in a public park.

"I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "I was cold. Don't you like it?"

"I do, but," I paused slightly, thinking of how best to word my thoughts, "we _are_ in a very public place. If I had made an advance—"

"You taste better," he interrupted, taking a seat next to me.

"What?"

"You taste better," my Sacrifice repeated, blushing and looking away.

"What do you mean?"

"You stopped smoking, so you don't taste like tobacco anymore. Actually, you taste kinda like…cherries." Getting up quickly, he reached out his hand and continued, "Come on, Sou-chan, it's getting late. We should start home."

I smiled softly and took the hand he offered. As he slipped our joined hands into the pocket of my coat, he quietly said, "Maybe I might have to kiss you more often, now that I know you taste so good."


	6. Nineteenth Summer

I did a double take as I looked in the mirror, momentarily forgetting the events of the night before. I raised my hand up and ran it through my sopping wet hair. When I didn't encounter the triangular obstacles I was used to, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn't hallucinating.

"Disconcerting, isn't it?" a voice from behind me asked. The voice's owner wrapped his arms around me, and I snuggled against him.

"Not that I regret it or anything," I replied after a moment, "but it's weird, you know? They've been there for nineteen years, and now all the sudden they're…gone. If I flex those muscles, it still kinda feels like I'm moving them, even though they aren't even there. It's just…weird."

I felt him smile against my neck. "You'll get used to it," he assured me.

As much as I didn't want to, I pulled away from him. "Stop it. I don't wanna get you all wet, Soubi."

"I don't mind," he replied easily. "I just want to be close to you."

"Let me dry off," I bargained, "and then you can be as close to me as you want."

Soubi kissed me softly and let me go, mumbling, "You'll just need another shower."


	7. Fifteenth Spring

"Soubi, do you like movies?" Ritsuka had asked him one day. They were at his apartment after school, Ritsuka relaxing while Soubi put the finishing touches on his latest painting.

"I rarely watch them," he replied honestly. "But I suppose that I like the ones I do watch."

Ritsuka laughed suddenly. "I should hope that you like the movies you choose to watch," he teased. Sobering and turning away, he continued, "We should go see a movie together tonight."

Soubi smiled slightly at the boy's request. "Like a date, you mean?" he replied, only half teasing.

Although he blushed, he carefully avoided answering the exact question he was asked, Soubi noticed with a grin. "I can't get in by myself, so I'll give you the yen and you can buy my ticket."

They ending up going to an evening showing of the movie Ritsuka wanted to see. It was a live-action adaptation of one of the boy's favorite animes. Soubi had watched a few episodes with him and had enjoyed the premise of the show, which was meant to show the darker side of the human psyche and, to a much more metaphoric extent, the moral conundrum surrounding the death penalty. The film did not disappoint by any means (even though it ended in a cliffhanger), but he appreciated the fact that Ritsuka had held his hand in the dark theater slightly more.

And he was pleasantly surprised when, as he was returning the boy to his home, Ritsuka blushed lightly and whispered, "Dates should end in kisses, right?" and his lips settled briefly over Soubi's.


	8. Twenty Fourth Spring

_A/N: This chapter ended up being a whole lot longer than all of the others, but in a way it needed to be. I really like the way it turned out, though, despite the concerns I have over the length. This is also much more serious in nature than all of the others, so be prepared. I know it starts out kind of light, but it is anything but in the end. You have been warned. (And as a warning ahead of time, I am one of those people who thinks that the actual loss of ears doesn't happen immediately after sexual gratification, but rather while the person is sleeping.)  
_

The call came at almost three o'clock in the afternoon. We were eating lunch together when the phone rang, sharing a plate of sushi and the occasional kiss while relaxing against one another on the couch. We had planned on going to an art gallery later that evening, where one of my paintings proudly hung. It was one of my favorites—it showed a young, violet-eyed boy lying face down on a bed covered in dark purple silk bedclothes, arms curled around a pillow and his lower half barely decently covered by a thin sheet. His cat features were still in place, but his position on the bed and a certain gleam in his eyes said that he had only just finished loosing his ears. Ritsuka supposedly hated it, but had agreed to going to this particular art gallery knowing the painting was there.

When the phone rang, I made a move to get up, but Ritsuka put a hand on my chest and said, "You sit still. I'll be a gentleman and get the phone."

I rolled my eyes at him, and he laughed a little along with me as he walked over to the still ringing telephone.

"Hello?" he answered. "Yes, this is Aoyagi Ritsuka. … Oh, is this about Misaki?" He turned and walked into the next room, which worried me. When Ritsuka had told Misaki about our relationship several years ago, she had gone into a rage and had beaten him severely, breaking a bone in his arm and giving him a concussion. I had taken him to the hospital, and the staff had called the police when they began to suspect child abuse. Misaki had been examined by a psychiatrist, who told them she hadn't been in her right mind for some time and that she needed care Ritsuka couldn't giver her. Ritsuka reluctantly agreed to let them admit her into a mental hospital.

Ritsuka's voice pulled me out of my memories. "What? What happened? No, never mind, we're on our way there." He slammed the phone down and tugged me out of the house, saying only that there was something wrong with his mother. When we arrived at the establishment, a police car and an ambulance were already there, and I felt a feeling of dread settle into my stomach.

We walked inside and Ritsuka told the receptionist his name and that he wanted to see his mother. She hesitated before responding, "Um, well, we aren't supposed to let anyone in her room yet, because the, um, police are still in there, so—"

Ritsuka shook his head and stalked up the stairs. I followed him, trying to stop him from doing something rash. He ran down the hallway and opened the door to his mother's room.

"Ritsuka, don't—" I called, but I stopped speaking when his jaw dropped and he gasped loudly. I walked over to him and looked inside the room. His mother was hanging from a rope attached to the ceiling fan, a chair laying on its side a few feet beside her. I thanked whatever gods might be listening that she was facing away from us and that Ritsuka could only see her hair, her back, and the feet poking out from underneath her nightgown.

The police shooed us away, but not before the damage was done. We stood in the hallway, both shocked by the image burned on our eyes. "Kaasan…?" he choked out. I hugged him to me gently and he began to cry, shuddering and heaving into my chest. I cried with him for a moment, wanting with all my being to take away his pain.

After a long time, when his tears had stopped and I was simply rocking him side to side, a young police officer came out of the room, carrying a slip of paper. She said simply, "We found this on her bed. It's addressed to her son," and left us alone. He read the note and a few tears dripped down his face in response. Soon afterwards, we left our information with the receptionist in case the police needed anything and went home.

"What did the letter say?" I asked as we were getting ready for bed much later.

"Nothing," he said, pulling his shirt roughly over his head.

I woke in the middle of the night to the smell of smoke. Fearing the worst, I followed the scent to the balcony of our apartment. Ritsuka was there, sitting cross-legged and watching the letter from his mother, her last words to him, turn to ash and blow away in the wind.

"What did it say?" I asked softly when he came inside.

He didn't reply, only buried his head into my chest and began to cry once more.


	9. Twentieth Winter

_A/N: Sorry for the absence. It seems like it's been forever since I posted anything, but I was in Europe for almost two weeks, and just got home a couple days ago. The idea for this drabble has been rolling about in my brain and I have had a hard time deciding whether or not to write it, but seeing as I can't come up with anything else, I had to just bite the bullet and get it out of my system. And please forgive me ahead of time for some of the terms I used in this chapter, but without them, it lacked authenticity and made for a really horrible update.  
_

_Also, for those of you that asked about last chapter's letter from Misaki, I have decided to leave it up to my readers. If you have an idea for what the note said, write it and send it to me in a PM, and I will pick one and include it (somehow) in an upcoming drabble. Have fun!_

* * *

"This is really good, Soubi," Ritsuka whispered as he sipped tea.

"Aren't you glad I forced you to try it?" I asked with a smile. Ritsuka rolled his eyes and smiled, shaking his head slightly. We had come to Ritsuka's favorite café after walking in the park. We sat outside, leaning against each other and sharing some sweets. My left arm was around his shoulders, and he was eating more of the cake than I was. He glanced up at me and smiled sweetly, blinking slowly.

"Two can play at that game," I replied casually.

"What game?" Ritsuka asked innocently. As I bent my head to kiss him, I heard him sigh happily. These were the best days for Ritsuka, the days when he could just relax and be himself with me. Ritsuka was on a school holiday and he had spent every day with me, sitting at my desk and smirking as I taught my classes.

Before I knew it, my hand had found its way to his knee and I tugged it upward slightly. I felt myself frown as he pulled away from me gently. "We shouldn't be doing that here," he reprimanded, blushing slightly.

"Sorry," I replied softly. "You know how I can get carried away sometimes…"

"Which is exactly why I asked you to stop," he mumbled, fingers tangling with mine. I smiled and gave him another kiss. He tried to hide his smile as he said, "I told you to stop."

"Is that an—?"

A sudden crash from behind us interrupted me. Every patron in the café seemed to turn and look. A rather bulky man in his early forties was standing beside an overturned table, rage written on his face.

"Knock it off already, will ya?" he bellowed, looking straight at us. "It's bad enough that they even let people like you in a respectable establishment like this, but there's no way I'm gonna sit here and watch you two jump each other in public!"

A woman that I recognized as the manager raced outside. "What's going on here?" she said loudly.

The man turned to her sharply. "I want these faggots thrown out of here," he shouted violently, throwing his burly hand toward us. "I shouldn't have to put up with their nonsense in the first place, but here they are, almost screwing each other in your restaurant!"

"Sir," the lady replied calmly, "please calm down so we can discuss this like rational adults. If you can't, I'm calling the police."

"Rational?!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Rational? You call _that_ rational behavior? There's nothing rational about two homos feeling each other up in public! It's sickening! And never mind that the one is just a little kid and is all but screaming for that pervert to stop! You really want your place to be known as the spot where some little kid got molested?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I going to have to call the police," she said, digging her cell phone out of her pocket. "You're making a fool of yourself."

As the older man was fuming and ranting, the manager approached us. "I'm so sorry," she said. "If you would, could you sit in my office until everything is resolved here?"

Later, after the man had been escorted home, most of the crowd had dissolved, and the police had left, the manager reappeared. Turning to Ritsuka, she asked, "May I see your I.D.?"

"Why?" He had cried for twenty solid minutes after we'd sat down, and the tears seemed to be reappearing.

"As much as I hate to agree with anything that idiot said," she replied, "you do look quite young. It doesn't matter to me in the least who you choose to sleep with as long as the law says you're old enough to choose."

He handed over the thin piece of plastic, and she looked it over. She smiled slightly. "You really don't look twenty years old," she said, handing it back. Sighing, she continued, "I truly am sorry about what happened today. I know there's nothing I can do to make it completely better, but if there's anything you would like from me, I'll try my best."

I turned to Ritsuka, who had buried his head in my chest again. "Well?"

"I just want to go home, Soubi," he choked out. He was blushing, I noticed peripherally.

Thanking her, we took our leave. It was quite late now, and the remaining patrons stared at us as we walked out, whispering and pointing rudely. I hailed a taxi and gave the driver my address. Ritsuka cried himself to sleep that night, but when I woke up the next morning, he was supporting himself on his elbow and gazing down at me. He was smiling. Before I could ask, he answered, "Sou-chan, I decided that the only people whose opinions matter are me and you."

I smiled and kissed him. "My thoughts exactly."


	10. Twenty Third Spring

It was a beautiful spring day, flowers blooming magnificently and the sun shining brightly over everything. Their little group was gathered in a secluded area of the park, a corner where not many people visited. The people who did happen to see the ceremony thought the whole lot of them mad, carrying on in such a manner in a public park.

Take, for instance, the group itself: a young, black haired boy and an older blonde in expensive-looking suits, a girl with pink hair wearing an equally expensive-looking formal gown, and finally, a man in jeans and paint-splattered t-shirt sucking on a lollipop. They were a motley crew, sure enough. The first three looked as if they were on their way to a wedding, and the green-haired individual looked very out of place in his disheveled attire. He looked as if he had just come from working—a house painter, perhaps?

The girl's dress was stunningly beautiful, its dark violet color nicely complimenting her styled hair. She wore elbow-length gloves that matched her gown, and chandelier earrings and a beaded necklace that were black. In contrast to her fancy dress, she wore tired-looking white flip-flops that seemed to be several years old. The black-haired boy and the blonde were arrayed in blacks tuxedos, both men wearing a light purple shirt and an almost aubergine tie.

Suddenly, another finely-dressed young man with long brown hair raced up to meet them. "Sorry I'm late you guys," he wheezed.

"It's okay," the girl replied. "You're here now, so we can start."

The painter began to talk, reciting what sounded like a marriage speech. Sure enough, after a few moments, the two men repeated some made-up words that sounded very much like marriage vows. After an exchange of rings, the disheveled painter planted his hands on his hips and said, "By the power vested in me by the four of you, I now pronounce you married in everyone's eyes but the State's. Sou-chan, you may kiss the, er, groom."


	11. Seventeenth Fall

When Soubi arrived home that evening, the sight he beheld as he opened the door to their small apartment shocked him. Ritsuka had called him a few hours ago and nothing had semed wrong. Now, as Soubi dropped the bag full of essays waiting to be graded, he could see that something was most definitely wrong.

Ritsuka was sitting on the bed and crying like a baby.

Ritsuka apparently hadn't heard the door open, but he did hear the sound of Soubi's heavy bag hitting the floor. He looked up sharply and gasped. Both of them froze, neither really knowing what to do. After a moment, however, Ritsuka jumped up off of the bed and ran towards Soubi. He stretched out his arms and landed against Soubi with a solid thud, the force enough to make his human wall take a few steps back. Soubi pulled him into a tight hug and tried to comfort him.

"Oh God, Soubi, don't ever die! Don't ever leave me alone so suddenly!" he screeched, sobbing pitifully into Soubi's chest.

"I'm sorry, Ritsuka," he whispered, wondering what he'd done to provoke such a reaction. As much as it pained him, he added, "Everyone must die someday, Ritsuka. No one can—"

"I know that, but just don't ever die like Zack did! She never even knew what happened to him! He left her for _four years_ and then got shot down on his way back to her, and then the Planet had to tell her he was dead or whatever, but I guess that they're together again in the Promised Land, but still—!"

Pushing the hysterical boy away, Soubi said, "Ritsuka, you _do_ realize that it was only a video game, right?"

_A/N: I was working on one of my other WIP fics when I suddenly got the inspiration for this. I just couldn't resist it because we all know Ritsuka likes video games, even though this is probably a little OOC for him. I mean, the ending of Crisis Core is just too sad for words. It probably doesn't help that you knew the ending of the game before you pressed the Start button....  
_


	12. Twenty First Summer

_A/N: Okay, okay, I really have no explanation for this one. I was having a bit of a hard time coming up with another idea, so I looked up some fanfic prompts. When I saw one in particular, my mind immediately jumped to this, although I have no idea why. I jumped over and did some really quick research, so I'm sorry if you spy something that seems a little off to you. Tell me and I'll gladly change it. In actuality, only the last of these events takes place during the summer after Ritsuka turns twenty-one, but meh. I couldn't let this treasure go to waste because of a technicality.

* * *

_

When Ritsuka comes home one evening with his ears pierced, Soubi gives him an odd look but says nothing. He has no right to judge pierced ears when he himself asked a certain then-twelve year old boy to do it for him.

When Ritsuka comes home one evening with a solid metal bar through the top of his left ear, Soubi wonders what would possess the boy to do such a thing but says nothing. Ritsuka is almost fully grown, and has the right to do what he wants with his own body.

When Ritsuka comes home one evening with a piece of black stainless steel shoved in the right corner of his mouth, he doesn't kiss Soubi for nearly two weeks. Soubi decides this is his own personal purgatory, torture for some unknown offense he has committed in the past. In reality, however, it is because Ritsuka needs to let it heal properly.

When Ritsuka comes home one evening with a spot of blood on his shirt, Soubi immediately begins to worry and demands that the shirt be taken off. Ritsuka rolls his eyes and scoffs, but does as he is told. Soubi spies the two curved pieces of metal, and he nearly faints from shock. He calls Kio that night and yells at him, telling him to stop offering to attach more bits of steel to Ritsuka's body.

And when Soubi comes home one evening from a business trip, one that has lasted twelve days instead of seven, he sees Ritsuka lying on the bed dozing. The young man hears the door open and runs to meet Soubi, embracing him tightly and kissing him forcefully. A little later, a semi-naked Soubi is hovering over a semi-naked Ritsuka, both anticipating their reunion. He smiles and sneaks his hand down beneath Ritsuka's boxers, but freezes instantly when his hand comes across something unfamiliar. His eyebrows crunch up in confusion and he looks up at Ritsuka, who is smiling like an idiot while chewing on his lip ring. He rolls his eyes as Ritsuka laughs loudly and makes a mental note to kill Kio the next time he sees him.


	13. Twenty Third Fall

_A/N: Gah, I am so sorry for not updating this in so long! Sory, sorry, sorry! I started three different entries, but I developed Writer's Block for a while and had no idea how to end them. Then Real Life interfered again and I have only just been able to even think about updating Ten Years. I am starting college on Monday (and let's not talk about all the stress involved in that!), and so I'm afraid I won't be able to post as regularly as I hope to. I WILL NOT ABANDON THE S/R FLUFFINESS! Anyway, hope you all enjoy!  
_

_

* * *

_

We sat a few hundred yards away from them, trying not to be seen. Kio had dragged me along after Ritsuka and the girl had left, insisting that something interesting was bound to happen. I had told him that they were assigned a project together and that this had been the most convenient time and place for them to meet. I rolled my eyes at him as he continued to stare at them.

"How is this not making you angry?" Kio asked, pointing to the two as Ritsuka began writing something down on a piece of paper.

"He's doing his homework," I replied flatly. "Why should I be angry?"

"Not that, baka," he grumbled. "Your _boyfriend_ is _flirting_ with someone _other_ than _you_! How is that okay with you?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Drop it," I ordered.

Kio continued to mutter nonsense for a while as I tried not to stare at Ritsuka and the girl. Kio suddenly took on a look of shock as he gasped, "Did you break up with him, Soubi?"

"What? No," I replied with a shake of my head. "Of course not."

Kio nodded slightly and added softly, "He break up with you?"

"I said drop it."

"Oh my God!" he exclaimed loudly and several other people turned and gave us rude looks. "He did, didn't he? Rit-chan broke up with you! Then why are we spying on him?"

I muttered, "I've been asking myself the same question." He opened his mouth to protest, but I shushed him and glanced over at Ritsuka while Kio pouted. He was much closer to the girl now than he had been, and I knew that look in his eyes very well. Ritsuka and I had had a long, difficult discussion several nights ago and, although he still slept in my bed and still only half-jokingly called me his husband, I felt as though he were slipping further and further away from me.

"What's wrong?" Kio asked, glancing over at the pair. "What's he doing that you find so—oh my God! Did you see that kiss? Please tell me you saw that kiss!"

"Unfortunately."

"Are you made of _stone_?!" he shrieked. "You _boyfriend_ just _kissed_—"

Kio suddenly clammed up, and I dreaded knowing the reason why. I turned slightly and sure enough, I saw Ritsuka standing behind me looking stern. I sighed. He glanced up at Kio and said, "In case Soubi hasn't told you yet, Kio, I'm bisexual. And the next time you follow me, Sou-chan," he added, glaring down at me, "you could at least bring someone who is _capable_ of being quiet."


	14. Interlude I: Twenty Third Winter

_A/N: Okay, so a lot of people wanted me to do a sequel to the last chapter and have them make up and all that good stuff. This update was supposed to have been that, but my Soubi and Ritsuka muses refused to cooperate with me. I have decided that the next few chapters won't really be chapters, since all of the one-shots in this fic are supposed to stand alone. I will instead label them Interlude I, Interlude II, etc, until this little arc is over with. There will be at least one more of the Interludes, possibly three all together depending on how things turn out. So hang in there, you guys, and KEEP REVIEWING! Reviews are kinda like the Chicken Soup for the Fanfic Writer's Soul. Enjoy!  
_

_

* * *

_"They cancelled classes because of the storm," I whispered to a barely-awake Ritsuka. "You can go back to sleep if you want."

"Yeah, I got the text." His phone vibrated again, making a high-pitched noise against the bedside table. He read quickly and muttered under his breath, "I know, Ayame." He replied to her text message and laid the phone back on the nightstand. I leaned down, intending to kiss his forehead, but he pulled the sheets over his head again. "Don't wake me up until after nine-thirty." I smiled sadly and walked out of the room. As I shut the door behind me, I heard his phone vibrate a third time.

I made myself some breakfast and went about my business for the rest of the morning. At about fifteen minutes till nine, Ritsuka came out of our bedroom, dressed and ready for the day. He padded over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. "Ayame won't stop texting me," he muttered, sitting across from me. He sighed. "She's kinda annoying me, but I can't tell her that because I don't want to hurt her feelings. What should I do, Soubi?"

I looked up at him in surprise. "You're asking _me_ how to deal with a woman?"

He rolled his eyes. "What I was trying to ask was how would you react if I was doing something you found irritating?"

I thought for a moment before I replied. "I don't think communicating with someone you truly love could ever be irritating. The messages being sent might not be exactly what you want to hear, but the actual act of communication should always be desired."

Ritsuka frowned. "Soubi, I don't wanna fight anymore. Please don't turn this into—"

"I'm not," I responded quietly. "I was doing nothing more than answering your question."

"That wasn't an answer. That was a thinly veiled insinuation that I don't love Ayame."

"Do you love me?"

"What?" His face scrunched in confusion.

"Do you love me?" I repeated.

"Of course I do," he replied.

"Then you can't love Ayame"

His mouth dropped open in surprise and anger as he stood and roared, "What does that mean? How can you say I don't love her just because I love you? You're not making any sense, Soubi! For once, can you not just say exactly what you mean instead of talking in riddles!?"

I stood up suddenly, turning my chair over in the process. I was angry, angry because not only did Ritsuka not understand that his so-called love for this Ayame girl was just a phase, but he couldn't see what she was doing to _us_.

"I didn't say you _didn't_ love her," I screamed. "I said you _couldn't_ love her. Loving someone involves more than just feeling an affection for them, Ritsuka! Loving someone means handing them your heart and hoping to God they don't let it fall. Loving someone means sharing everything you have with that person, and trusting them more than anyone else. Loving someone means realizing that you have given your soul to another person, and that they have gladly offered theirs in return!"

He looked away from me as tears welled up in his eyes. "So do you love her, Ritsuka?" I continued, feeling only slight more calm. "Have you given her your heart? Do you have secrets you keep from her? Have you given her your soul? I know for a fact you haven't."

"And how in the world can you know something like that?" he yelled, whirling around to face me. He was breathing hard and his fists were clenched tightly.

"You can't have handed her your heart," I whispered, "because it beats in my chest. You don't have anything to share with her because half of your everything is already mine. And you can't have given her your soul when the one you possess is my own."

He was quiet for a very long time. After an eternity, he shook his head and walked towards the door. Grabbing his keys, he pulled on a heavy jacket and slammed the door behind him.


	15. Interlude II: Twenty Fourth Spring

_A/N: This will be the final Interlude. It doesn't have a conventionally happy ending, because of some questions looming in the background, but it is as happy as it is going to get. I'm actually quite proud that I brought this little arc to a successful conclusion. Yay me! Anyway, I already have the next installment typed on my phone's notepad function, and another one written in a notebook (is it bad that I wrote most of the ending during my Pysch 201 class? :-/), and I am gonna try to get them typed out and posted ASAP. _

_This is actually set just a couple months before chapter 8, for those of you who are keeping track of what happened when and such. Forgive the reusing of a couple dates, but it was kinda necessary. I don't really care about it for this arc, as long as you guys don't. Enjoy!  
_

* * *

It had been four months since Ritsuka moved out. Four months since I had had any contact with him. Four months since I had heard his voice. He had gone to live with Ayame and her roommate in an apartment near the university. According to the updates I was occasionally receiving from the roommate, who was enrolled in one of my classes, everything appeared to be going well for them. I thought about him everyday, thought about the time we had shared and the things we had experienced together. He never left my mind. If Ritsuka was happy with the way things had turned out, then I would be happy for him.

"Agutsuma-sensei?" a voice asked hesitantly. I looked up to see Ayame's roommate, Megumi, standing in the doorway.

"Ah, come in, Megumi-san." She sat down in front of me, looking quite nervous. "What may I help you with today?"

She took a deep breath before responding, and twisted her fingers together anxiously. "I just wanted to tell you that—well, you might have heard this from Ritsuka-kun, I don't know, but…well, it's just that I don't really know if I should tell you or not, because this is kinda the type of thing that Ritsuka-kun needs to tell you, but I know you guys don't talk a lot now, and—"

I sighed and interrupted her. "Megumi-san, if you don't feel comfortable telling me, then don't tell me. I don't want your conscience to—"

"Ritsuka-kun and Ayame are having a baby!" she blurted loudly.

I was absolutely floored. I believe my jaw dropped open slightly, but the girl held her eyes held tightly shut and her hand were fisted in her skirt. I quickly composed myself as she looked up at me once again. "What wonderful news. Please convey my congratulations to them. How far along is she?"

My cheerfulness was throwing her off slightly, and I suspected she had thought I would fly into a rage at this news. If Ritsuka was happy about starting a family with Ayame, then I would be happy for him.

"I, um, I'm not really sure. They just found out themselves a couple weeks ago."

"Oh, I see. Would you pass on my best regards to the happy couple, Megumi-san?"

"Uh, sure. Well, I guess I'll be going now, Agutsuma-sensei."

I was saddened a bit by the fact that I had heard a piece of news so important and life-changing as this from what amounted to my own personal undercover agent. It hurt me very much that he could just suddenly and completely forget me. But most of all, I was jealous that he was ready to move on, and that he had done so by conceiving a child with a girl he barely knew. But if Ritsuka was happy with Ayame, then I would be happy for him.

Two weeks to the day after I received the news, on a rainy, good-for-nothing evening, I heard a knock at my door. I laid my chopsticks on the table and padded over to the door. When I opened it, I saw Ritsuka there. He was soaked to the bone and had a heavy backpack slung over his shoulder. He made no move for a long moment, refused to look at my face. I stepped aside and he meekly walked through the door, dropping the bag onto the floor gracelessly. For the first time, I realized that he was crying.

"Ritsuka…?"

He turned around slowly and began to speak. "Ayame…she was pregnant. I was so happy, and I thought she was, too. But she wasn't there when I got home today, so I called her, but she said she couldn't talk and that she'd call back. A couple hours later, she came home and told me…told me that being a mother so soon wasn't really in her plans and that she'd—that she'd gotten an abortion. I—" Speech failed him, and he choked on his words for a moment. Finally, giving up the battle for composure, he broke down and started to sob violently.

I took a step toward him and he turned to me simultaneously. I wrapped my arms around him and he held onto me as if he were drowning. I wasn't sure how long we stood there in one another's arms, comforting and being comforted. Although part of me was glad he was back in my arms, I couldn't imagine the kind of pain he was in. He'd been told he was going to be a father, had mostly likely shouted it from the rooftops hand-in-hand with this girl, and then was informed by her that his unborn child had been, for lack of prettier wording, murdered for the sake of convenience. I couldn't imagine what that had felt like, and wondered briefly what one could compare it to, if anything.

"I'm sorry, Soubi," he said pitifully. "I really thought that she loved me. I thought that she was happy carrying my baby, but I still just can't believe she would make this decision without telling me. It was my baby too—it was a part of me as well as a part of her—but she just rid herself of it like it was nothing! If she loved me like I thought she did, she would have never contemplated doing what she did. We would have discussed what was best for us and what would have been the best for the baby, and then we would have handled the consequences of our decisions together. But she…didn't even care."

I hugged him tighter and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He continued weakly, "I'm sorry I treated you the way I did. I should have listened to what you were trying to tell me. I was so stupid to just go off with her and, on top of it all, be careless enough to get her pregnant when we weren't ready. I know I don't really deserve it, but I want to come back to you." He took a deep breath and whispered, "I just wanna come home, Soubi."

I felt tears sting at the back of my eyes. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have yelled at you the way I did, or treated you as if you were a dense little child."

"I was. I deserved every word of it."

"No you aren't, and no you didn't. We were both in the wrong." I tipped his head up and looked directly into his eyes. "You are more than welcome to live here again. I have wanted you to come home as well, Ritsuka."

"Thank you, Soubi," he replied. Although it would be a long time before we were completely comfortable in one another's presence, or before we both stopped mourning the sudden loss of his child, that night was the most joyous one we'd shared in a long time. If Ritsuka was happy to be back, then I would be happy with him.


	16. Sixteenth Summer

I hate it when it rains. I sometimes wish that it would only rain when I was fast asleep, so I wouldn't have to experience it. But Soubi—he was different. He loved the rain. He could sit out on the small balcony of his new apartment and just listen to it for hours upon hours. It was frustrating.

"Why do you love the rain so much, Soubi?" I asked one evening. The door to the balcony was slightly opened so the sound of rain falling could be heard. I was getting ready for Soubi to take me home, but he was just lying on the bed, listen to the stinking rain. I almost thought he was asleep because it took him so long to respond.

"Why don't you like it, Ritsuka?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Because when it rains, it gets all dark and gloomy and depressing, and no matter how little there is of it, you have to stay cooped up inside."

He smiled at me. "That isn't how I view the rain," he replied. "I think rain is a sign of renewal and of refreshment. It reminds me sometimes of you, Ritsuka," he added, looking up at me.

"How so?" I asked sarcastically.

He reached out to me and, with his hand upside down, tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. "When it rains, yes, it gets dark and depressing. But the rain revitalizes everything it touches and without it, we couldn't live. The world would be a desert, a wasteland. Nothing could grow."

I was skeptical, to say the least. "How does that remind you of me again?"

His grin widened and he chuckled slightly. "Well, when I first met him, Ritsuka was dark and very depressed, and he went through some hardships that were even darker and more depressing. And he grew because of them. He blossomed into what he is now, which is to say," he paused and turned over, running his thumb over my cheek, "he is a very strong, very intelligent, very beautiful young man." He pulled me gently towards him and kissed me, something he didn't do very often anymore. I blushed brightly, feeling my whole head burn.

When his lips left mine and I was able to speak again, I said, "I am _nothing_ like rain, Soubi. Your analogy sucks big time."


	17. Eigthteenth Winter

_A/N: So, I just realized that I promised someone an update with some Kio action in it. Sorry about forgetting! Whoever it was who asked for him, the next update WILL have some Kio, I swear!

* * *

_

I walked into the classroom at two minutes until eight and surveyed the students who sat in the desks before me. There weren't as many as I had originally thought there would be, probably because it was still very early in the morning by their standards. Most of the students were female, and most were situated in the middle rows of desks, as was typical on the first day of class. I began handing out the syllabus and telling them about the course and myself.

"For those of you who don't know me," I said, "I am the fabled Agatsuma-sensei." I heard a few giggles from behind me as I wrote my name and other information on the blackboard, presumably issuing from former students of mine. "I am well-known for my strictness, but I assure you that you will enjoy yourself in the process."

"You're _very_ enjoyable, sensei," a girl called from the back of the room.

"'Specially to look at!" another one added.

I knew those voices. They belonged to my stalkers. I rolled my eyes and continued to write as I spoke. "Do you two scheme to take at least one of my classes each semester? Shouldn't you have graduated by now?"

The second girl giggled again. "Med students don't disappear that easily, sensei."

"Yep!" her friend responded. "All the other art professors are either butt ugly or lesbians. Where's the fun in that?"

"Yeah," agreed a male voice close behind me. "Why take a visual arts course when you don't get to see anything beautiful?"

"Exactly!" the girls cried simultaneously.

I turned to notice for the first time the male student sitting in the front row. He was slumping in his seat, looking up at me with a very smug expression. He smiled and chewed on his lip ring. He had black hair that just barely skimmed his shirt collar, and owned a pair of violet-colored eyes.

I sighed, taking off my glasses and walking over to him. "Why are you in this class, Ritsuka?" He shrugged as I heard the other young people begin to whisper about my obvious lack of an honorific. The two girls in the back, however, reacted differently.

"Sensei, is that really Ritsuka-kun?!"

"We've wanted to meet him for so long!"

They rushed down and introduced themselves. I rolled my eyes and ignored them as best I could, continuing to write on the board. A moment later, and deep male voice exclaimed, "You mean to tell me that you're sleeping with Agatsuma-sensei?!"

I spun around and yelled at them to shut up. After class, I saw Ritsuka walk up to him and mutter, "To answer your question, I started sleeping with Sou-chan way before he was anybody's teacher."


	18. Twentieth Fall

"Kio's coming over tonight," Soubi told me over breakfast. I smiled at his tone, which held an air of resignation, and chuckled.

"That's good news! We haven't seen Kio in forever," I replied. "It's about time he came to visit. He's always badgering us to go out there, but _he_ never comes to see _us_."

"Probably because _we_ never go to see _him_," Soubi pointed out

"Well, we have school while he's in Japan, and he spends most of his summer with his girlfriend and her family in America."

Soubi rolled his eyes. "He brought her back to Japan with him for a visit, and he wants her to meet us. They'll be here at seven."

It was probably closer to eight than seven when they arrived. I had cleaned up the apartment after my classes that day, and Soubi seemed to be impressed with my abilities as a maid. I told him not to get used to me picking up after him. When our guest arrived, with apologies about being late, we ushered them in the apartment. Kio hugged Soubi tightly and yammered on about how horrible a friend Soubi was to ignore him while he was in the country. Soubi didn't completely suppress his eye roll, but managed not to make it too noticeable. Kio turned to me and inspected my piercings, which he considered his babies. He'd given me the lip ring he was now staring at for my eighteenth birthday, before he had gotten serious about his girlfriend (whose name still knotted up my tongue).

"Healed quite nicely, I see," he said seriously. "Perfect. Be sure and take care of my darlings while I'm away, so I don't have to buy a plane ticket to save your lip and eyebrow from gangrene."

The girl said something quickly in English that I didn't quite catch, and Kio laughed. I heard her name, which even Kio couldn't pronounce perfectly ( was it 'Mi-shi-e-ru'?), and both mine and Soubi's when he pointed to us. She smiled at us brightly. She was rather pretty, for an American. She had very clear blue eyes, and I suspected that the indigo highlights in her light brown hair and the gauged earrings in each ear were a few of the reasons Kio liked her appearance.

He laid a hand on my head as he said something else to her, but stopped mid-sentence. He glanced at me quickly before turning his gaze to Soubi, who sighed loudly. He knew what was coming.

"Sou-chan, you pervert!" he exclaimed loudly. "When did you take poor Rit-chan's ears?!"


	19. Twenty First Spring

"Soubi?" I heard Ritsuka voice ask from the bedroom. I was almost finished preparing dinner for us. Ritsuka was studying diligently, an activity he almost never engaged in because his schoolwork came easily to him. I wondered what the subject was, that he should deem studying necessary.

"Yes?"

"Can you help me study?" My eyes widened quickly. This request surprised me greatly. Ritsuka was always adamant about study alone whenever the situation warranted it, and I had never before been invited to participate.

"What subject?"

"Human Anatomy," he sighed. "I just can't get the names of some of these bones down."

I smiled, immediately thinking of a fool-proof study method. We ate the rest of our dinner in relative silence, broken occasionally by Ritsuka's muttering. He would take a bite, then proceed to stare at the packet of papers he held. The process repeated, sometimes being interrupted by a pause for water or flipping a page. When we had finished dinner, we relocated to the bedroom. When Ritsuka sat on the bed, I commented, "It's just memorization work, isn't it? Why are you having trouble with it?" He shrugged and shook his head, not taking his eyes off of the paper. I snatched it out of his hands and rolled my eyes. "Where should we start?"

"The chest and back, I guess. I know most of those well enough." He crossed his legs and began to hesitantly rattle off names of bones. I stopped him. Tugging off his shirt and ignoring his protests, I pointed to a bone on him at random and consulted the page. "What is…this?"

"Collarbone," he replied. "Clavicle."

"And this?"

"Shoulder blade. Scapula."

"These?" I asked, fanning my fingers against his side.

"Ribs. Costae. There are twelve sets, twenty-four in total. Seven sets are normal, three sets are false ribs that connect to the sternum via cartilage, and two sets are floating ribs that attach only to the spine."

I smiled wickedly and turned him around. I pushed his longish hair aside (making a mental note to get him an appointment with a barber) and kissed his neck slightly above the hairline. "These?"

"Cervical vertebrae one and two, also known respectively as the atlas and axis. They facilitate vertical and horizontal movement of the head."

"These?" I said, moving down an inch or two.

"More cervical vertebrae, seven in all…Thoracic vertebrae, twelve in all…" He whimpered as I continued, his voice climbing higher as I trailed kisses lower down his back. "Five lumbar vertebrae… Five fused sacral vertebrae…Coccyx, which some believe is the vestigial —Soubi, stop that!"

We repeated this method on most of his body. He stumbled through a few of the longer scientific names, but was soon reciting them fluently without my kisses. Later, after we had finished giving special attention to certain other parts of Ritsuka's body, he mumbled, "If another type of bone presents itself during my test on Thursday, I swear I'll kill you."


	20. Fifteenth Summer

_A/N: Sorry for taking this much time to update. Real Life got to me, then a little bit or Writer's Block, and then I had to write a paper for English 102. But I come bearing an update, which should make you guys happy enough not to kill me. Also, after this chapter, there will only be two left! The end of Ten Years is coming too quickly, but it was fun while it lasted. I already have the last chapter written (-cough-TwentyFifthFall-cough-), and I'm pretty sure that will go over well and is the perfect way to end this little series. In the meantime, while I ponder on my instinctual need to make Ritsuka cry, enjoy my latest offering!_

_

* * *

_

I never quite understood Ritsuka's choice of music. He listened to the kind of rock music—I didn't know what it was called now—that could deafen you with its loud, slightly discordant guitars, the kind that featured singers screaming over-the-top lyrics. Occasionally, the music flowing out of Ritsuka's headphones was in English, but the qualities were much the same. It grated at my ears and gave me a headache most of the time. I wondered how my Sacrifice could possibly have a sense of hearing left after his marathon sessions of listening to it.

After dinner alone one evening, which had become a rare event since Ritsuka has grown up a little, I received a text message from the boy. "r u busy?"

"No, why?" I was, as a matter of fact, finishing up a painting for a class, but I always had time for Ritsuka.

"i wanna c u."

"Is something wrong? Your mother?"

"yea." This response worried me greatly. Her temper had become even shorter in recent years, and no matter how careful Ritsuka was, Misaki never stopped looking for proof that her son was gone. I left my apartment immediately, wondering if I would have to take him to the hospital again.

When I arrived at his house and knocked on his sliding glass door, I saw him sitting up on his bed, headphones over his ears. His lips was bleeding and his cheek was bruised. He was crying quietly with his eyes closed. I walked in, not expecting a response. I could hear the heavy rock music from outside.

He didn't sense me walk over to him, and as a result, he jolted when I dropped to my knees and pulled him into my embrace. I kissed his temple, his forehead, his eyes, the tip of his nose and, finally, the corner of his mouth that wasn't tainted with red. He relaxed into my grasp, and his head sank down onto my shoulder. I felt his tears hit my neck and slide down through the neck of my shirt and over my chest.

I never asked him what exactly had happened—knowing that it concerned Miskai was enough—and he never volunteered the information. He never took off his headphones the whole time I was there that night. When I asked him the reason why years later, he replied quietly, "Music soothes the savage beast, Sou-chan."


	21. Twenty Second Spring

They hadn't been involved in a spell battle in a very long time, and as they were walking home from a date one evening, slightly drunk and loosely holding hands, they felt the presence of another Fighter/Sacrifice pair. When the two were found, a boy and girl much younger than Ritsuka, they were determined to fight.

"I don't guess they know who we are, huh, Soubi?" Ritsuka said with a smile. "Let's play." They were weak little things really, no more than overconfident brats who were biting off more than they could chew. Soubi knew he would beat them easily enough. He didn't even try, just as Ritsuka lazily threw out orders that Soubi had known were coming. It was a change, not having to really try to win a battle, and they both knew how it was going to end. Until, somehow, the brats managed to restrict Ritsuka.

"I'm fine," he said quickly. "Attack." And so Soubi did, continuing to play with the brats across from him as the sadist in him demanded. It wasn't until he glanced over at Ritsuka that he realized what had happened. Ritsuka was clawing at the bonds around his neck, desperately trying to remove them even though he knew he couldn't. His face was very pale and his lips were tinged with blue. His Sacrifice whimpered pitifully, and he realized Ritsuka couldn't breathe. Those idiot children didn't even know how to properly restrict the enemy?

The boy let loose a spell that Soubi suspected was the strongest he knew, but in response, Soubi cursed at them and searched his memory for a spell with which he could defeat them as quickly as possible. He yelled it out to them, and soon enough, the Sacrifice was bleeding profusely all over her dress, and the Fighter was swearing at him, mistaking his partner for dead. He picked the girl up and ran, leaving Soubi to a weak and gasping Ritsuka. He tried to get up, only to collapse onto the ground. Soubi ran to him and saw that he was no longer conscious.

He sat by the bed all night, and when Ritsuka came to in the small hours of the morning, his Sacrifice cried until sleep overcame him again. Soubi changed into his pajamas and laid down next to Ritsuka, pulling him close and drapping a leg over the younger man's thigh. The rise and fall of his chest against Soubi's was comforting.

In the morning, Ritsuka assured him he was feeling well enough to look after himself. He stayed home from his classes so he could rest. Later that evening when Soubi came home, he found Ritsuka talking with two of his female friends. They had come to check on him, as he rarely missed a full day of class. He heard one of them ask about the dark bruise on Ritsuka's neck and froze, wondering how they would explain it.

"Oh, this?" Ritsuka said hoarsely, touching his throat lightly and smiling. "It's nothing. Sou-chan just got a little too excited with my new leash and collar last night."


	22. Twenty Fifth Fall

_A/N: God, this sucks. I hate posting the last entry of a fic, but everything has to end sooner or later. My goal was twenty ficlets, and I ended up with twenty two. It's been really fun, guys, and I hope you all have enjoyed the ride as much as I have. I just love the reviews (all of them, even the ones that were just "Awww!" or incomprehensible fangasming), and you guys have been so awesome throughout the whole thing. -throws everyone cookies and plushies- I am not worthy! I am not worthy! _

_Anyway, this chappie does get a little on the citrus-y flavored side, so if Two Guys aren't your thing (or if you're under 16?), go away. But if that was the case, then why are you reading fanfiction for a BL series in the first place? Silly me, all you fangirls want some S/R fanservice, right? I will warn you, though, this is the first sort of lemon/smut thing I've ever written, so it's probably really bad. But I thought this was a really awesome way to wrap things up. Just to let you know, I'm working on a piece for Kingdom Hearts right now (Axel-centric, 358/2 Days timeline) and also some more Yuffentine stuff, so watch out for those. If I can ever beat my Ouran (KyoHaru!baby) fic into submission, that'll be posted too. Just visit my profile for updates and whatnot, and you should be good. But I digress. On with the show!

* * *

_

"Ritsuka," I heard Soubi's voice ask early in the morning. "Do you have to work today?"

"No," I replied. "I requested today off." I rolled over onto my side to face him. Today was our anniversary.

"What would you like to do?" he asked, running his hand over my upper arm. I snuggled into his chest, content to lie in his arms for the rest of the day. I knew Soubi wouldn't want to do anything grand or flashy today, he never did, but he always commemorated the day somehow. He sketched me one year, bought me a rather rare video game another. Last year, I had bought him a set of expensive oil pastels that he lusted after. I thought that perhaps this year he would like to have a new set of brushes or a new easel. The ones he was using currently were probably older than me.

"I dunno. Whatever you feel like doing."

"That is a dangerous reply," he said with a smile. He laid his fingertips on my stomach and raked them gently down, the classic sign of an amorous Soubi. I sometimes wondered why he did it, but the thought was often chased away by certain other things he would start doing to me.

"I'm okay with that, too," I replied, laying my hand over his and guiding it with a smile further down my torso to the place we both wanted it to be.

He smiled and took advantage of my willingness. We slowly kissed, touched, and pulled at one another's bodies. My Fighter knew me very well in this regard, as I did him. He knew, for example, that I liked to be beneath him and that kisses on my hips were a weakness of mine, and I knew that—although he'd rather die than admit it—he liked the piercing not on my skull more than I did. Soon enough, Soubi pulled away, panting slightly, and rummaged through the nightstand drawer for a condom. (That was another thing I often wondered about, but Soubi always insisted that he would be debasing me if he didn't use one.) We made love for a very long time, letting our hands and lips wander as our bodies rocked together gently. After an eternity, my release came, and Soubi, knowing by my sounds that I was happy and sated, allowed himself to follow, kissing me tenderly. As the day continued, we only left our bed to eat and clean ourselves. Late that night, when we had finished making love, I whispered, "Is there any sort of present you wanted for our anniversary, Soubi? I was thinking about that easel—it has to be older than me and—"

Placing two fingers on my lips to silence me, he replied, "You already gave me exactly what I wanted: a chance to show you exactly how much I love you and exactly what you are to me." I smiled and snuggled deeper into his arms as he added with a chuckle, "Although, a new set of paintbrushes might come in handy. Your vocal performance has been particularly inspirational tonight."


End file.
